IN MEMORIAM PTOLEMAEUS
by silver colour
Summary: Bartimaeus remembers Ptolemy. [cross-posted from AO3]


Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Jonathan Stroud. If I owned them, this would not be a fanfic, but canon.

...

It had been several ages since it had happened.

Ptolemy.

I had been summoned back to this stupid planet once between then and now, on the other side of the world.(1)  
(1. Not any occasion worth mentioning. They were simple people, not far past monkeys and ants if you ask me. They did have an abnormal obsession with pyramids -and why do you humans like pyramids so much anyway?  
More importantly I, being from a different world, told them that their gods desire human sacrifice. Just wait and see what happens. If they're stupid enough (and let's face it, they're _human_), they will pick up on it. )

Now, I was finally back near the Mediterranean, summoned by a magician in some city.(2)  
Since I was here anyway, I had decided to visit Alexandria. Why, you ask? No particular reason really. It's the place I've spent the most time in, in your world.  
(2. Contantinople or Byzantium or something else entirely, I get confused.)

So, one night while the magician slept, I changed into an eagle and flew across the city sky, across the sea, to Alexandria(3)  
(3. What is it with humans and naming things after themselves? Constantinople, Alexandria, Rome, you lot have impressive delusions of your own grandeur. Especially magicians. The really impressive things are the buildings in the cities, and who built those? Exactly.)

Alexandria was... Not what it had been. The place seemed to have shrunk, somehow. Granted, that was probably because a part of the city had been burned down. Probably some careless apprentice trying to do something he couldn't. They were lucky only a part of the city had been destroyed.

However, flying closer, I could see which part of the city had been destroyed; the palace grounds and the Great Library.(4) Perhaps not so lucky then. I smiled.(5)  
(4. Which is not that great actually. Lots of dust and boring books about spirits and stuff. Nothing anyone would want to know.)  
(5. Which is not easy for an eagle, I can tell you.)

As I flew over the palace quarter, I noticed something else.

The royal necropolis had also burned down.

Suddenly I felt- well. I felt something. A human would perhaps be so dramatic as to say they couldn't breathe, but since I don't breathe that's beside the point. However, if I needed to breathe I don't think I would have been able to just then.(6)  
(6. Really, breathing is such an annoying thing. It only ever seems to get you killed.)

Ptolemy.

His-

His grave would have been here.

And now it wasn't.

And I had not-

I cut of that thought. He was just another magician. Just another master, and a more foolish one then most others at that.

I swept down to the ground, and changed into a human, keeping the eagles' wings just in case.(7)  
(7. In case of what, you're probably wondering. In case of an attack, of course. In case you have to run from a powerful spirit (not that there are many who are more powerful than I). And to avoid getting trapped. Take it from me: never let yourself get trapped. Especially not inside a building. _Especially_ not in a temple. Bad things happen in temples and-  
Why are you still reading this? Go on back to the story!)

I created a small whisplight. Nothing much remained here, except ruins of what had once been magnificent graves. All Ptolemys were buried here, once. Now, this was all that was left of their memorials.

My Ptolemy should be here as well-

I felt my own thoughts fall silent. (8)  
(8. A rare occurence for a being existing on multiple planes.)

My Ptolemy

My Ptolemy.

For that was who he had been to me, I realised. The only one I might have accepted as my master. My only master who did not want to be my master.

I summoned the whisplight back and took it in my hands. As it flared brighter I bowed my head. My master. The only human I would ever grieve for.  
My... Ptolemy.

I stood there until the sunrise made me aware of the passing of time once again.  
I realized I would not have much time to get back to the magician who was currently my master. However, I did not feel like changing into anything else, so I simply flew as I was -a human with wings. (9)  
(9. Which was a lot of fun in that era. You see, christianity has these weird ideas about humans with wings. Remind me to tell you about that time some woman mistook me for an angel, that's a really good story.)

It was only later, after I had shifted into another form, that I realized whose form I had taken in Alexandria that night.

That was the first time since his death that I had taken his form.

Ptolemy's.

_My Ptolemy._

_..._

AN: This story happened while I was making a drawing of what was, at first, a random person. However, at some point, it turned into a sad Bartimaeus. And then I had to write the story of why he was so sad. THAT is what you've just read.

I've posted the art in question both as coverart for this story, and on my tumblr, where you can find me as Silver-colour.

This story is unbeta'ed, any mistakes are my own.

Please let me now what you think!


End file.
